


Put Your Mouth To Better Use

by TheBlackMagister



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Pseudo-Incest, Shameless Smut, Shutting Him Up With Sex Always Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackMagister/pseuds/TheBlackMagister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elliot talks too much sometimes. It's almost annoying.<br/>Almost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put Your Mouth To Better Use

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry my fandoms are so jumpy rn i just really love rami malek ok

Elliot is wonderful. There's no argument. But sometimes - sometimes the kid can be so.. annoying.

Like now.

He's being a fucking brat again. Mr. Robot knows he can't help it, it's just in his nature, but it's so irritating sometimes and the older man's fingers itch to punch the look off his face. There's really no use in hitting him and they both know it, it only makes him pull away, but damn it would be so satisfying. He's ranting about something or other and normally it wouldn't be hard to listen, to sympathize, but Mr. Robot is so not in the mood to hear his bitching.

"Fuck, just shut up." The older grunts finally, standing up from his position on the worn couch and pushing Elliot up against the wall in one motion. "Jesus Christ, you talk so much. We need to find a way for you to put that mouth to better use."

Elliot's light brown eyes are confused and a little hurt and Mr. Robot almost feels bad. Almost. So he does the next thing he can think of; he kisses Elliot. For a moment Elliot freezes in his arms, against the wall, but then the boy submits. Perfect. Elliot had never been the one to be dominating.

He pins Elliot's wrists to the wall, kisses down the shorter's neck, grinding, rubbing, touching. Elliot melts like putty and it's wonderful, it's perfect. He tugs off Elliot's shirt, fingers tracing Elliot's chest, and he frowns. After this, he decides, they're going out for dinner. Even if Elliot can't sit right.

When Mr. Robot's hand moves down to the growing bulge between them Elliot makes a soft little noise of pleasure that does something to his groin. Fuck. Elliot's face presses into his neck, breathing shaky. He's got Elliot trapped and is definitely, definitely going to exploit it.

"Tell me what you want," He murmurs softly, hand rubbing even circles against Elliot's crotch; Elliot makes a half-coherent mumble that could've been "please". "C'mon, kiddo, tell me what you want me to do to you."

This time Elliot's answer is clear, definite. "Whatever you want."

Perfect.

"Take off your clothes," Mr. Robot orders, pulling away. "And wait. Don't touch."

Elliot begins to fumble with the button on his jeans as Mr. Robot moves into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. He knows Elliot well enough that the poor kid is going to need it later. When he returns Elliot's shivering, either with cold or excitement he can't tell. He presses Elliot into the wall again and kisses him, fingers running through the younger's short brown hair, tongue easing past Elliot's full lips and coaxing a submissive whimper from the boy.

"Good boy," He purrs, stroking Elliot's stiff cock. "Get on your knees. Use your mouth."

Elliot sinks obediently, reaches for his jeans but glances up hesitantly at the last second. He hums and nods and Elliot responds willingly; undoing the button and drawing his cock out, mouth sliding down around it. A groan leaves Mr. Robot's mouth before he can help himself and he pushes down on Elliot's head, bucking forward. Elliot gags. It's so warm and wet and tight and it feels so fucking good. Elliot's so good.

"Fuck," He mutters, hips rolling in time to the bobbing of Elliot's head. "God, El.."

He's the only one that gets to call Elliot that. It's become a habit, really, when Elliot goes down on him; it tells Elliot he's enjoying it, not to stop because it's absolutely wonderful. Elliot is so talented; and it's sort of trippy to think that they'd been "together" long enough for Elliot to know what gets his engine running. Still, he's not complaining, because Elliot's blowjobs are the best he's ever had.

"Get up."

Elliot gets to his feet at once. Mr. Robot kisses him, pins him to the wall, lifts his legs and exposes him completely. Elliot whimpers but in the soft, I-want-it-but-I-don't-want-to-beg kind of way that makes Mr. Robot want to ravage him even more. A low, choked moan leaves his lips as the older man shoves in roughly, without warning or prep and fucking hell it's good. He's used to the stretch, the burn, and yet every time always feels like the first. It always takes a moment or two for him to remember he does still have to breathe and when he does it's more of a whimpering, shaky inhale. He grits his teeth to stifle a louder sound as Mr. Robot begins to thrust, hard and fast and rough. He really doesn't want his neighbors to hear him being fucked into oblivion, not that Mr. Robot is going to care. At this rate he won't even be able to speak tomorrow.

"Fuck," He pants. "Oh, fucking hell - h-harder, shit-"

"Does this feel good?" Mr. Robot's voice is low, husky; he nods. "Such a good boy for me, El. Good boy."

They both know that praise only breaks Elliot down further. It's something of a kink; he needs to be praised, complimented, needs to be told he's doing a good job. It makes his world. He bites down on Mr. Robot's shoulder, clinging to the older man, shaking, whining, panting. His entire body is rocked with the force of Mr. Robot's thrusts and he feels amazing.

"Shit, I - f-fuck - M-Mr. - Mr. Robot fuck oh God - h-harder, more, fuck me please-"

Elliot always sounds so wonderful when he's close, and oh boy is he close. Mr. Robot can tell. It's in the way he shakes, in the way he moans and writhes and begs. His thighs are vice grips on Mr. Robot's waist and to be honest, his asshole keeps contracting, squeezing, and it's so tight, but he has to cum first. It's so beautiful when he orgasms because-

A strangled cry escapes his mouth as he reaches the peak, finally. His entire body shakes and he throws his head back, brown eyes wide and blank, lips parted, and he clings desperately to Mr. Robot, and oh God he can't breathe it's too good he feels too good and he needs - he needs, well, he doesn't know what he needs. He's aware, vaguely, of being filled with warmth, Mr. Robot's throaty groan echoing up and down his spine from where the man's face is buried in his neck. "So good," Mr. Robot mutters into his collarbone, "Fucking hell, Elliot, you're so good for me. So wonderful. You did so good."

Elliot whimpers. He's tired and sore and sticky and he just wants to curl up with Mr. Robot and sleep. Instead the older carries him into the bathroom and turns on the water in the bathtub. He mumbles what might have been a protest and Mr. Robot chuckles, kissing his temple.

"C'mon, kid, we gotta get cleaned up before we can rest. You're all sticky and shit."

"I could stick to you," Elliot offers sleepily. "We'd be stuck together. Like glue."

"El," The name would be harsh but Mr. Robot's tone is light, joking, "You can fall asleep now if you want but one way or the other we have to clean up."

"Just want to sleep w'you." Elliot pouts and receives a light kiss for his efforts.

"You just did. Come on, I promise, we won't be here long and then we can go lay down. Okay?"

Elliot makes a vague sound of dissent but is otherwise quiet as he's picked up and laid in the bath. Mr. Robot sheds the rest of his own clothes and then eases down behind him, arms sliding around his waist. He snuggles into Mr. Robot's chest, yawning, and fucking hell he's so cute when he's sleepy, he should be having his cheeks pinched by some old grandma. Okay well, maybe not that. But something.

"I love you." It rises to Mr. Robot's lips before he can stop it. Elliot glances up, brown eyes sleepy and confused, but then he repeats it back in a soft slurred tone and kisses the older, and Mr. Robot exhales against his mouth. It had sort of come out of nowhere. They weren't the romantic types, for sure, but, well, with great sex and a warm bath came feelings. Lots of feelings.

He picks Elliot up out of the bath, and the kid's asleep before they even leave the room.


End file.
